


Snow on Snow

by rhiannonhero



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-08
Updated: 2010-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:39:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhiannonhero/pseuds/rhiannonhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short.  Very short.  Spoilers through the series finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow on Snow

_Snow was falling, snow on snow  
Snow on snow on snow_

 

The windchill factor had to bring the temperature well below zero. A leather coat and multiple layers didn't do much to soften the bite of winter in Pittsburgh. Sometimes, it seemed like it was always winter in Pittsburgh.

Brian stepped carefully over ice, and blinked tear-stung eyes into the bitter wind. Dinner at the diner had been a cup of coffee and a stale muffin left over from the morning. Debbie wasn't working tonight, so there was no one to bitch at him about his eating habits. He glanced down the street toward Babylon, smirking at the Christmas lights and holiday colors infusing the dirty snow-laden streets with a semblance of cheer, before turning and heading back home. To the loft.

A year ago, home was going to be an estate in the country and a husband. It had been a narrow escape. One that he sometimes wished he'd not made. The idea of being entrapped in a homey, domestic, warm, sexy embrace the moment he walked through the door didn't sound too shitty to him at the moment.

He kept his eyes on the sidewalk, patches of ice and snow directing his attention. In his mind's eye, the house was decked out in Christmas lights, Justin would have seen to that. Justin greeted him in the kitchen, smudges of paint still evident on his face and hands, and a glass of wine halfway to his lips. Justin would use one hand to help Brian off with his coat and refuse to relinquish his drink to warm Brian up, saying, "Get your own." Then Brian would spin him around--

That was in his mind though. The reality was the loft and silence. Unless he turned around and went to Babylon after all. Or the airport. New York wasn't that far away and he could use a vacation.

He pushed open the door to the building, skin prickling at the sudden warmth. Or he could go to Woody's, pick up a guy or two. He shrugged, the idea bored him, as it did more often than not these days.

The loft _was_ silent. He could hear the refrigerator running and the small tink of something in the pipes. He stood in the center of the room and looked around. Everything was flat and sterile and hard. His eyes caught on the curtains and he patted his pocket for a cigarette.

Tossing his jacket on the sofa, he moved toward the window, gazed out at the snow falling silently, and lit up. The sound was loud, echoing off the ceiling and walls. The phone rang, but he let the machine get it, focused on the snowflakes settling into a pile on the ledge outside.

"Brian? Hey, it's me. I thought you might be home by now, but I guess you're out."

Brian pressed his forehead to the glass and closed his eyes, picturing Justin sitting on the bed in the tiny closet in New York where he lived now.

"Um, anyway. Call me when you get in. I miss you. And…"

Brian opened his eyes stared out into the night.

"And, hey, I love you. Call me. When you get in. Bye."

He put the cigarette out and pulled off his shirt, tossing it aside. He unbuttoned his pants on the way to the shower. It'd been a beautiful house and it would have been fun to fuck Justin in the stables at least once. He turned on the hot water and soaped up, thinking about the Christmas tree that Justin would have insisted on putting up in the den, ignoring every complaint. He hadn't had a Christmas tree since he left Jack and Joan's house. It could have been nice. Or, well, it might not have been too bad.

The sheets were clean and he stayed on his side of the bed, but he didn't smoke another cigarette. He picked up the phone, hitting speed-dial one.

"Hey, I'm in. Bed. Though I'd like to be in _you_." Justin's laugh warmed him. Brian went on quickly, his tongue thick with meaning, "And, hey...I love you, too."

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Written in late 2005. I hadn't written anything in a very long time and I wanted to see if I could still write anything at all.


End file.
